


Get Well Soon

by SickoTaylor (FeederMercury)



Series: Cough Syrup (A Collection Of Sickfic Oneshots) [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Collapsing, Emetophilia, Emetophobia, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, Oneshot, Real People as Fictional Characters, Sick Character, Sick Roger Taylor, Sickfic, Stomach Ache, Vomit, Vomiting, oneshots, puke, puking, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeederMercury/pseuds/SickoTaylor
Summary: Roger hates being babied but falls ill while on Queen's tour bus. He decides to keep it to himself, but soon it becomes impossible.





	Get Well Soon

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic of this kind, so I'm sorry if its not that great. I didnt even know i was into this until like 2 days ago tbh lmao  
> also 37 degrees C into F, is 100 degrees <3
> 
> The version of Queen I am using in this story are fictional, not to be associated with the real members of Queen.

Roger hated showing weakness.

On trips when he was injured from any amount of things, he would hide it from anyone who asked or was even the slightest bit concerned for him. When he was sick he would drop off the grid for a week or two as to avoid anyone he knew, even his boyfriend Brian who would insist being with him through the cold even when Roger pushed him away.

He hated having Brian take care of him unless he truly needed it, such as the time he broke his leg and needed to rest in bed for a couple of weeks, even then Roger disliked the way he was babied. 

He simply didn't like being treated like he was dying even if he _was_ sick. Unfortunately, he had a nasty habit of waiting the cold out and not even alerting the rest of the band before he showed up for strenuous shows or practices. More often than not they would find out by the way his skin paled or sweat more often than usual, occasionally hitting the nail on the head straight on when he would give in to his illness and confess he wasn't feeling well.

Over the past week, Roger had been running a slight fever that he refused to believe was anything more than a sniffle and therefore didn't alert Brian. Tour had begun which meant if he _was_ sick, he wasn't going to have a great time on the long hours of sitting on the bus.

Roger had been quietly relaxing in one of the beds covered by a light blanket while the rest of the band were quietly playing a board game and talking in the living area of the vehicle. Earlier in the day, he'd taken a few pills for his low-grade fever that made him doze off fairly quickly which didn't surprise the rest as he normally slept through the drive anyways.

However, now he was awake from nausea in his stomach which was increasingly painful as he woke. He sat up in bed, running his hands over his abdomen as he winced in pain. His low-grade fever was clearly worse as he was drenched in sweat, causing his hair to stick to his head.

Roger pushed himself out of the cubbie and stood shakily, using one hand on the bed to sturdy himself as he felt as if he could drop at any moment. He was still out of view from the band which he thanked his lucky stars for, and headed off to the bathroom to fix himself. Once inside he washed his face, now noticing how ghostly pale his skin was and how exhausted he looked, even if he did just wake up from a nap.

"Okay, chill," He told himself, gripping the sides of the sink. "chill out. You're gonna be fine."

Roger searched through the drawers in the bathroom, finding cough drops and a few more daytime and nighttime meds he could take, though they were quite large and would take a bit of effort to stifle down. He figured as he was already feeling quite bad, nothing else could hurt so he popped two, albeit large, day time pills for his nausea. 

By the time he left the bathroom, he was still considerably hot and removed his shirt, now left in pajama pants that were loosely drawn around his slim middle. As soon as he stepped out and joined the band, they knew he wasn't feeling well based on how he looked. His eyes were glossy and his nose was fairly pink, enough to notice, against his pale complexion. Not to mention how warm he was, and looked.

"You okay, baby?" Brian asked, turning around in his seat as Roger made a beeline for the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Roger turned and nodded quietly, drinking down his water quickly.

"I just woke up." Was his reply which didn't exactly explain how he looked or the way he seemed to begin running hot again, shown by the way his face and torso became a bit shinier.

Brian didn't take this for an answer but knew he would get frustrated quickly if he asked, deciding to let his partner remain with his choice. He continued his game with Freddie and John, who often peered over to see Roger on the couch attempting to relax. Brian was concerned for him, of course, but did know Roger would never admit to feeling under the weather until it was at a significant point of his illness.

Roger had begun to sweat a bit more and had pulled the pant legs from his pajama sweats up his legs for comfort, which hardly helped as he was still increasingly hotter as his temperature rose. He turned on his side to get a better view of his friends and boyfriend, squinting.

"Is it...Hot?" He asked slowly as the band members looked his way.

"It's not, no," Freddie answered as he slowly put down his mug of tea. "I think that's just you, love."

The other two agreed and Brian approached Roger who was beginning to feel his nausea return. The guitarist placed a hand on his forehead and frowned when he realized he was running a high fever.

"You've got a fever, Rog," Brian stated in a slight annoyance. "you're burning up."

Roger shook his head, forcing his boyfriend's hand off of his face. "No, it's just hot in here. I feel fine."

Brian stared at him until he looked up once again, furrowing his brow once he had his attention.

"I'm gonna get the thermometer, and if your temperature is higher than thirty-seven degrees, I swear." 

Roger wasn't sure what he meant by ' _I swear_ ' but he did know he wouldn't be finding the thermometer any time soon, as he'd thrown it out long ago when Brian went a bit too overboard with his caretaking side and decided Roger was dying when in reality he had a cough.

He wanted to laugh at the thought but didn't feel well enough to do so, so he stayed silent as he heard Brian rummaging through the cupboard before charging back out with a barren thermometer box.

"Are you kidding me?" He asked in a huff. "It just walked off, then, yeah?"

Roger smiled slightly, nodding as he placed a hand over his stomach in an attempt to alleviate it.

"Rog, you're sweating a pool and you're shivering," Brian observed, crouching and putting a hand over his partner's forehead once again. "you're sick, just let me help."

"I'm just hot, okay?" Roger argued, pulling Brian's hand off of him in frustration. "Leave me alone."

He turned onto his side as to avoid Brian's glare, striving to get a bit more shut-eye in the meantime. He hadn't noticed until his boyfriend mentioned it, but he _was_ shivering quite a bit. It frustrated him even more that he noticed this and he didn't.

Roger's hopes of waking up feeling better were sadly shattered when after stirring awake, he felt himself burning up and sweating more than he had when he woke up previously. His hair was smoothed against his head and the pillow he was using was damp along with the couch itself where he'd been laying. Upon waking, Brian turned over from in his chair and nearly had a stroke.

"Holy shit, Rog," He worried, going to the sick person's side. He placed a hand over his forehead once again only to find his temperature to have risen. "can you stand?"

Roger was more focused on staying awake as his eyes fluttered between half open and closed, drowsily scanning around the room in a feverish haze. He stood with Brian's help before feeling his stomach churn, quickly forcing him to grip his lover's arm for support with his other on his stomach.

"Can we...Stop..." He paused for a moment, clutching Brian's arm tighter as he hunched forward. "The bus...?"

Freddie hurried to the front and the bus came to a halt a moment later. Roger stumbled out of the door as quickly as he could move and Brian followed close behind.

Now on the street, Roger fell to his knees, one hand on the pavement while the other was on his torso, and quickly emptied his stomach in the road. Most of the contents were liquids such as the water he'd drank before and orange juice from his breakfast which didn't help his throat that now burned.  He heaved several more times as to get the rest out, but found he couldn't.

Brian pat his back, rubbing it lovingly as he got it out and cooed to him gently as to calm him down. When Roger was done, he sat up and slumped against his partner in exhaustion. He felt tears running down his cheeks from the excursion, and wiped them away quickly, though Brian and the other two standing next to him had already noticed.

"Do you feel any better?" Brian coaxed, running his hand through Roger's damp hair.

He only nodded weakly, sighing shakily. Brian gripped his shoulders and helped him to his feet, holding on to his arms for support. For a moment, Roger held on but decided to walk back himself, breaking off from his boyfriend as to enter the bus by himself. He used the door as a support beam but felt his knees buckle under him and his vision blur as he collapsed in front of the doorway. 

When he came to, Brian was next to him on the same couch he was at before but he had something wet on his head. He reached for it, feeling a moistened towel over his forehead and groaned.

"How long have you been sick?" His boyfriend asked in worry, taking the towel and dapping his flushed cheeks gently.

"I don't know...A week?" Roger replied warily and slowly, attempting to keep himself from coughing which only made his shoulders hitch.

Brian's eyes widened as he sat back a bit. "A  _week_ _?_ And you just...Didn't tell me?"

Roger shrugged, looking away in embarrassment. "I didn't want you to be all...Loving."

"You didn't want me to love you?" He forced back a smile. 

Roger took the cloth and dabbed his neck roughly, whimpering as he did so. He was still sweating, but now he was a bit cooler with the cloth helping. This didn't help his aching limbs, however, or his headache from the nasty fall he took.

"I don't feel good." Roger admitted, closing his eyes and extending his legs out for something to do to take his mind off of his misery.

"I know baby, I know..." Brian cooed, taking the cloth and placing it over his forehead.

Soon, Roger was sleeping again. This time with Brian next to him for comfort and to make sure if he got up and didn't feel well, he would be there to help.

It turns out, Roger didn't regret telling Brian about his ailment, even if he did have to tell him when it became a bit too late. 

Maybe he was thankful for the little extra care he received, maybe.

 


End file.
